It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas
by Mooose
Summary: FINISHED! Had to rush it as I've ran out of time...hope you read it and please do tell me what you think. G/C, a little N/S
1. The Visitor

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.I don't make profits from this.  
  
Author's Note: This is a continuation of "First Do No Harm."  
  
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas  
  
By Moose  
  
Sara Sidle sighed as she closed a file containing a month-old case file. Field work had kept them all too busy and the paperwork just piled up and up and up. It was just her luck that she sprained her ankle in her last case; the doctor said she had to stay off her bad foot for at least a week. Grissom originally wanted her to stay at home until her ankle's healed, but Sara managed to convince him that she could still be productive despite her injury. So, as a compromise, Grissom allowed her to work but all she can do is update the paperwork.  
  
Sara stretched her arms over her head. She had been confined to this desk for almost six hours for this shift. Her eyes are getting tired from working non-stop in front of the computer, and her back was beginning to ache. Glancing at the clock, she decided that she deserved a coffee break.  
  
Getting up was no hard task, but walking towards the break room with a bandaged right ankle was quite difficult. Sara had adamantly protested against using a crutch, opting instead to use a cane. Still, feeling pain shooting up from her injured joint when she tried to use her right leg dismayed her. It's been five days now, and while the throbbing had stopped and the swelling had gone down, she still couldn't get around without support. Sara sighed in frustration as she entered the break room.  
  
As expected, the break room was empty. Fortunately, somebody left the coffee pot half-full. Probably Greg, Sara thought. Greg was the only other person in the building right now who uses the same break room. Sara hadn't seen much of him lately, because between the break room and the office, she hadn't been anywhere else during work time. Getting her mug and pouring some coffee into it, she wondered how the others are doing. Grissom and Warrick were working on a homicide at the strip, while Catherine and Nick were investigating a robbery. They've all been gone since the start of the shift, and Sara wished she could be out there with them.  
  
Coffee mug in one hand and cane in the other, Sara hobbled towards the table. She had taken only a few sips of coffee when Daisy, the building's receptionist appeared at the doorway.  
  
"Hi Daisy," Sara greeted. "What's up?"  
  
"Hi Sara," Daisy smiled. "Grissom's got a visitor."  
  
"Grissom's out, I'm sorry," Sara said, wondering why Daisy did not inform whoever it is that wished to see Grissom about him being in the field. Daisy usually kept tabs on their whereabouts, and she also usually just informs the visitors to come back again if the person they want to see is not around.  
  
"Oh, I know that, but I'm sure Grissom would want to see his visitor when he comes back," Daisy said. "I figured maybe she could wait here instead of the lobby."  
  
Sara thought this was very strange, but she shrugged and replied, "Well, okay."  
  
Daisy smiled and disappeared for a moment. She came back with a dark haired girl that Sara guessed was in her mid-twenties. The girl was very attractive, and Sara felt like a plain Jane next to her. A very plain Jane.  
  
Daisy then smiled at the two and left, without even introducing them. Sara then smiled at Grissom's visitor and said, "Hi, I'm Sara Sidle. I'm on Gil Grissom's team."  
  
"Hello," the girl replied with a genuine smile. "My name is Wren, Wren Grissom. Gil Grissom's my father."  
  
Her father? Sara repeated in surprise. As far as she knew, Grissom didn't have a wife or kids. Oh boy. Can't wait for Grissom to get back. I sure hope he and Warrick gets back before Catherine and Nick does, she thought. 


	2. Copy Cat

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.I don't make any profits from this.  
  
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas  
  
By Moose  
  
Chapter 2  
  
"You guys had dinner yet?" Jim Brass asked as Gil Grissom and Warrick Brown approached him.  
  
"About an hour ago," Warrick replied.  
  
"Two hours ago for me," Grissom said. "Why?"  
  
"This is one of the ugly ones," Brass warned. "I hope both of you didn't eat much. Two of my people already lost their dinners."  
  
"What have you found out so far?" Grissom asked, following Brass towards the police line.  
  
"Two teenagers found her and called us," Brass said. He nodded at the still female form several meters from where they stood. From that angle, they couldn't see her face.  
  
Grissom wordlessly walked towards the body, with Warrick following him. When he saw the victim's face, he instinctively turned away.  
  
"Oh God," Warrick remarked, feeling his stomach lurch.  
  
The woman's eyes had been scooped out, leaving bloody sockets staring out into the night sky. Her jaw had also been forcibly broken; her cheeks slashed such that the jaw was hanging over one side. Grissom gritted his teeth as he shined his light into what used to be her oral cavity.  
  
"Tongue is cut off," he told his younger companion tersely. "Blood is still quite fresh and there are still no insects or larvae. This happened probably just hours ago."  
  
Warrick nodded wordlessly and opened his kit. He was glad that Grissom had taken the task of examining the body. Scouring the immediate vicinity for some clue, he fought hard to keep himself from retching.  
  
Grissom brushed away the victim's long hair from the side of her head. "Ears gone, too," he said to himself.  
  
Moments later, Grissom stood up and walked away from the scene. Soon, the body was taken to the coroner.  
  
"Found anything?" Brass asked as Grissom and Warrick approached him. They began walking back to their vehicles.  
  
Grissom held out several evidence bags. "Her wallet's in her jacket pocket. Victim is Jessica Morrison, 19 years old from California. Other stuff are a pack of cigarettes and a lighter."  
  
"Does she have a driver's license?" When Grissom nodded, Brass went on, "I'll check her file then." He got into his car and drove back.  
  
"You okay?" Grissom asked Warrick, who was silent beside him.  
  
Warrick nodded. He got into the driver's seat and waited until they were on the highway back before speaking. "She was killed for her eyes."  
  
"See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil," Grissom replied.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Her tongue and ears were also cut off," Grissom explained. "I think we've got ourselves a copy cat."  
  
"Of whom?"  
  
"Barney Jones," Grissom replied. "Serial killer who left his victims in this kind of state. Killed them because he felt his mission on Earth was to stop the spread of evil. I worked on that case years ago. He's in jail now, and I haven't heard anything about him escaping. Our killer seems to be familiar with Jones's style. That case was highly publicized, so I'm not at all surprised."  
  
"This is sick," Warrick said.  
  
"I'll check on Jones's file and record when we get back," Grissom said. "You process the victim's clothes."  
  
Warrick nodded, he already anticipated that. Soon they were driving through the residential outskirts of the town. Most homes have replaced their Thanksgiving décor with Christmas ones. Nevertheless, these merry lights failed to lift the spirits of the two occupants of the lone vehicle passing the streets. 


	3. Meeting Wren

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.I don't make any profits from this.  
  
Author's note: Yup, it did come from babyblues. Anyway, I can't promise to make this one funny, but rest assured, it's not going to be sad or tragic either. Thanks for the reviews, keep them coming!  
  
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas  
  
By Moose  
  
Chapter 3  
  
"Wonder how Sara's holding up," Catherine Willows mused as she and Nick Stokes entered the building.  
  
"Maybe she's gotten our backlog down to a week," Nick said hopefully, not a big fan of paperwork himself.  
  
"I hope you're right, but I have a feeling that's just wishful thinking," Catherine smiled. "I'm just going to shower before heading to the break room. These grime stains might never come off," she said, grimacing as she looked at the ugly black marks on her pink blouse.  
  
"I'll just get some food at the caf," Nick said. "Want anything?"  
  
Catherine shook her head. "No, but thanks anyway."  
  
"Okay," Nick nodded and headed for the cafeteria. At this time of the night, the 24-hour cafeteria usually has no costumers, save for the other night-shifters. Nick went straight to the counter and ordered a hamburger for himself and an egg sandwich for Sara. He knew that she probably hadn't eaten since dinner that night.  
  
As he was walking away from the counter with their food, his eyes automatically scanned the room. He stopped walking when he saw Sara with a woman he didn't recognize in one of the tables. Apparently, they had been looking at him, and Sara smiled when he met her eyes. Smiling ruefully, Nick walked towards their table.  
  
"Good evening, ladies," he greeted them.  
  
"Hi Nick," Sara said. "This is Wren. Wren, this is Nick. He's on the team, too."  
  
Wren offered a hand, which Nick shook. "Nice to meet you, Nick."  
  
"Same here," Nick replied. Turning to Sara, he said, "I was going to bring this to you." He handed her the package with the sandwich.  
  
"Thanks," Sara said. "but I think I'll eat it in the break room. We were about to go back when you got here." She moved to stand and Nick reached out to help her. Soon the trio were on their way back to the break room.  
  
"You two go ahead," Wren said. "I'll just go freshen up a bit."  
  
"Okay, the ladies' room is at the end of this hallway, the door to your left," Sara said. "We'll be in the break room."  
  
"Thanks," Wren smiled pleasantly. She walked on as Nick and Sara entered the empty break room.  
  
Once inside, Nick turned to Sara. "So.did you miss me?"  
  
"With Wren around, no," Sara teased, heading over to the couch.  
  
"Fine, give me back the sandwich. I'll give it to Greg instead."  
  
"Why, do you think Greg missed you?"  
  
"Hell, no," Nick replied. "Okay, you can have the sandwich. Just tell me more about Wren."  
  
"Nick." Sara said, her eyes narrowing.  
  
"Just kidding," Nick grinned, settling beside her. He gave her a quick kiss before asking, "Seriously, who is she? I haven't heard you mention any Wren before."  
  
"Her name doesn't sound familiar to you either?" Sara looked at Nick, worry clouding her face. "You mean, you also don't know?"  
  
"Know what?" Nick repeated, Sara's worried look stopping him from taking a bite of his burger.  
  
"She's Grissom's daughter."  
  
"Grissom has a daughter?" Warrick's voice came from the doorway. He looked a little sick.  
  
"You're kidding, right?" Nick asked Sara, who nodded at Warrick. Warrick poured himself some coffee and faced his two colleagues, their worry mirrored on his face.  
  
Sara shook her head. "No, I'm not."  
  
"Oh boy," Nick muttered. "Where's Grissom?"  
  
"In his office," Warrick replied. "Does Catherine know?"  
  
"I have no idea," Nick admitted.  
  
"Oh boy," Sara said, repeating Nick's words. She looked at Nick and saw worry in his eyes. "Oh boy."  
  
Several doors away, Catherine walked out of the locker room feeling a lot better. Her pink shirt was probably gone for good, but at least she and Nick had pretty much closed the case. She headed to the break room and found three troubled looking CSIs discussing a seemingly important matter.  
  
"What happened?" Catherine asked as she entered the room. Immediately, the three stopped talking. She looked at them suspiciously. "Okay, were you guys talking about me?"  
  
"No," Sara and Warrick said in unison, making Nick cringe. They couldn't have been more obvious than that.  
  
"Um, would you like some egg sandwich, Catherine?" Sara feebly asked.  
  
"Thanks, but I'd rather you fill me up with what's going on," Catherine said. Just then, Wren walked in. Seeing new faces, she smiled and introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Wren Grissom."  
  
"Catherine Willows," Catherine replied automatically. Realizing what Wren just said, she turned sharply to her. "I'm sorry, what was your name again?"  
  
"Wren Grissom," Wren replied, glancing uneasily at Sara, who suddenly became very interested in her sandwich. She didn't like Catherine's reaction when she said her name.  
  
Relax, Catherine told herself, she's probably a niece or cousin. Her heart pounding wildly, she asked, "Any relation to Gil Grissom?"  
  
"He's my father," Wren said tentatively.  
  
Catherine managed a tight smile. "Well, it's about time I, we met you," she said. Turning to Warrick, she raised an eyebrow.  
  
"In his office," Warrick said, a feeling of impending doom washing over him. "We just got back."  
  
"Excuse me," Catherine said, heading out.  
  
"I'm Warrick Brown," Warrick introduced himself to a lost-looking Wren. "I have to apologize for Catherine. She's usually very accommodating -"  
  
"She's involved with my dad, isn't she?" Wren asked softly.  
  
Warrick shot Nick and Sara a look for help. When neither replied, he looked back at Wren and nodded.  
  
"I came here actually hoping that he's find someone," Wren said. "That's not a problem for me."  
  
"But I think it is for them," Sara said, looking at Wren sympathetically.  
  
Just then, Catherine walked back into the room. "Another body found not far from your crime scene earlier this night," she told Warrick. "Let's check it out." Warrick nodded and set his cup down. As they walked out of the room, Catherine glanced at Wren and said, "Grissom's in his office."  
  
Wren nodded and looked like she wanted to say something, but Catherine whisked Warrick out. Sighing, she just looked at Nick and Sara. "Where's his office?"  
  
Sara nudged Nick. "Come on, I'll take you there," Nick said, getting up. They walked silently towards Grissom's closed door, which was just a few meters from the break room. Nick rapped the door and opened it after Grissom said, "Come in."  
  
"You have a visitor," Nick said, entering the room. Wren stayed in the corridor.  
  
Grissom sighed. "So I heard. You going with Catherine on the last call?"  
  
"Sorry boss," Nick shook his head. "She took Warrick with her. They already left."  
  
Grissom nodded. He rubbed his temple, feeling the beginnings of a migraine. "Where's Wren?"  
  
Nick looked at Wren, who was standing tentatively outside Grissom's office. "Hi Dad," she smiled as she entered the room.  
  
Grissom smiled and stood up. "Hi Wren."  
  
Nick took one glance at them, smiled at Grissom and stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him. So this was no surprise for Grissom, he mused, wonder why he hasn't told Catherine? 


	4. Frankenstein

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.I don't make any profits from this.  
  
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas  
  
By Moose  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Warrick and Catherine drove to the crime scene in silence, each lost to his or her own thoughts. Catherine was trying her best to calm the rising panic in her; she knew she had to give Grissom the benefit of a doubt. Nevertheless, she couldn't think of any reason why he would keep someone as important as Wren a secret from someone he loves. Catherine couldn't help but feel betrayed; who knows what else Grissom has kept from her?  
  
Warrick meanwhile, focused on the road and tried to keep the image of the previous crime scene off his mind. That thing back in the break room with Wren and Catherine, it provided him with a welcomed diversion from what he and Grissom had just saw. Hell, he didn't want trouble for Catherine and Grissom, but back then, he was just grateful that they managed to distract him from the case.  
  
"This must be it," Warrick commented as they approached a horde of police cars. It was the first words any of them had spoken since they left the crime lab.  
  
Catherine just nodded. She took several deep breaths and psyched herself for the task at hand. She knew she couldn't afford to be distracted now; every victim deserved the investigator's uncompromised attention and alertness.  
  
Warrick parked next to a police car and soon they were walking towards the police line. Jim Brass was waiting for them.  
  
"Evening, Catherine, Warrick," Brass said. "Is Grissom with you?"  
  
"No, something came up at the lab," Catherine replied. Warrick hinted a bit of bitterness in her voice. He looked at her with concern, but Catherine had turned to Brass. "What have we here?" she asked.  
  
"Dead body in a state kind of similar to what Grissom and Warrick examined earlier," Brass said. He looked at Warrick. "Good thing you came along."  
  
"Yeah," Warrick said through clenched teeth. Just great.  
  
"Well, take us to him," Catherine said.  
  
"Her," Brass corrected, leading them. "I must warn you, Catherine, this isn't a pretty one."  
  
Catherine nodded. I could use the diversion, she thought. But when she saw the body, she quickly wished she hadn't been so hasty in thinking that.  
  
"This one's slightly better than the other body," Brass said, standing a couple of feet away.  
  
Warrick had to agree. The head and face were not touched, but her chest had been crudely ripped open. He knew that the killer had taken one or several vital organs. Looking at Catherine, he raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I'll process it," she said, putting on a pair of Latex gloves. "Your other DB also had her chest ripped open?"  
  
"No," Warrick shook his head. He got his camera out. "Eyes, ears and tongue were missing in that one. My guess is this one's missing a heart."  
  
They spent the next few minutes working methodically in silence. When they were satisfied that all evidences were collected, Catherine allowed the coroner to take the body away.  
  
"Well?" Brass asked as they approached him.  
  
"Warrick's right, the heart was missing," Catherine reported. "And taken very roughly. I'm no surgeon, but all those broken tissue and torn skin gave me the impression that the killer reached in and grabbed her heart."  
  
"Looks like we have a Frankenstein on the loose," Warrick commented.  
  
"A Frankenstein?" Brass asked.  
  
"Assuming this is connected to the other case, our man seems to be on an organ harvesting spree," Warrick remarked. "Sort of what Frankenstein did when he made his monster."  
  
"Except that this guy took his parts from live people," Catherine interjected. She handed Brass the victim's IDs.  
  
Brass nodded and pocketed them. "I'll contact you when I have more information."  
  
Catherine and Warrick headed back to their vehicle. "Grissom thought we had a copy cat earlier," Warrick said as he got behind the wheel. "You familiar with the Barney Jones case?"  
  
Catherine nodded. "But if these were related, this isn't Barney Jones' style. He never took any organ other than eyes, ears and tongue."  
  
"I'd better start processing once we get back," Warrick said.  
  
"Shift's almost over," Catherine pointed out. "You doing a double?"  
  
"Might as well," Warrick nodded. "I want to put in as much time as I could so Grissom will let me take some time off around Christmas day."  
  
"Oh, right, Christmas," Catherine said. "We were going to take Lindsey to Disneyworld on Christmas."  
  
"Were?"  
  
"I don't know now," Catherine sighed. "With Wren around, I'm not sure if Gil's still up for it."  
  
Warrick reached out and squeezed Catherine's hand. "I'm sure he has a good explanation for that."  
  
"He'd better have," Catherine said quietly. "He'd better." 


	5. Grissom's Explanation

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.I don't make any profits from this.  
  
Author's note: Sorry I missed my Christmas deadline, but I'll continue this anyway.  
  
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas  
  
By Moose  
  
Chapter 5  
  
"Oh, shut up now," Sara grumbled as the strains of the Chipmunks' "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas," roused her from sleep. She buried her head deeper in her pillow and silently cursed her neighbor for getting home early from work.  
  
"So Scrooge is finally awake," Nick murmured, kissing Sara's bare shoulder. "I thought we'd be late for work today."  
  
"Five more minutes," Sara pleaded, not really wanting to leave the cozy warm bed. She cuddled closer to Nick. "And please tell my neighbor to get rid of that stupid album."  
  
"I kinda like it," Nick said, not really joking. He brushed Sara's hair from her face and kissed her forehead. "Come on, sleepyhead. I already let you oversleep for fifteen minutes. Grissom will kill us both if we're half an hour late."  
  
"Not if Catherine kills him first," Sara said, trying to shake off her drowsiness. "I wonder why he never told her about Wren."  
  
"Grissom's a complicated guy," Nick replied. "But I'm sure they'll work it out."  
  
"I hope so," Sara said. She looked at Nick with a worried expression, then tentatively asked, "You wouldn't have any secrets like that, would you?"  
  
"I've told you everything," Nick replied. He had anticipated this question. Sara had been unusually quiet the night before. "No criminal record, no past marriages and definitely no kids," he assured her. He couldn't help but adding, "as far as I know."  
  
"Nick, I'm serious!" Sara said, propping herself on one elbow. "You would tell, wouldn't you?"  
  
"Just kidding," Nick smiled. He pulled her closer until their lips were almost touching. " Of course I'd tell you. I love you, Sara. You don't have to worry, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Sara murmured, closing her eyes as their lips met. As their kiss deepened, all thoughts of getting to work on time were forgotten.  
  
  
  
Catherine couldn't help but sigh as she was greeted by the crime lab's cheerful Christmas décor. Although she was the one who insisted that they put these up, she no longer felt very cheerful for Christmas. She headed straight to the locker room to put her stuff away.  
  
"Catherine?"  
  
Catherine did not reply to the familiar voice. Instead, she continued putting her stuff in her locker.  
  
"Can we go have dinner and talk?"  
  
"It's almost time for work," Catherine said curtly. She turned around and faced Grissom. "Let's do away with dinner and have the talk here, right now."  
  
Grissom nodded and cringed inwardly. He knew he fully deserved her wrath. "About Wren," he began slowly. "I was planning to tell you about her soon."  
  
"When, Gil?" Catherine asked, her voice reflecting the hurt she felt. "I thought we had something special. That night at the hospital when Lindsey was sick, and those weeks after that - I thought we both agreed to let each other into the other's life."  
  
"I'm really sorry, Catherine," Grissom sincerely said. "I was waiting for the right moment to tell you." He took a deep breath and looked directly into her eyes. "I love you, more than I have ever loved anyone. I was, I am scared that you'll think of me less when you have found out about Wren, that you wouldn't let me be a part of your life."  
  
"Why would I do that, Gil?" Catherine asked. "I have a daughter of my own, you know I don't think of children from failed relationships as burdens or accidents."  
  
"Because I failed to be a good father to Wren," Grissom said quietly. Seeing Catherine's confused look, he sighed. "I met Wren's mother in college. We were classmates, and we dated almost all throughout college. After graduating, I asked her to marry me, but she said she would only do so if I changed my line of work. Back then, I already loved this type of job and I knew this was the only job I could do very well and with passion. So, instead of getting engaged, we broke up. She went to Paris, and I didn't know until years later that she was pregnant when we separated. I met Wren for the first time when she was thirteen. She was really different from the Wren you met yesterday. Back then, she was a really troubled kid. She did drugs and slept around, never mind that she was still so young. I tried to get her mother to agree to let me take Wren back to the States, but she refused. I tried to visit Wren as often as I could, but everytime I did, she'd just turn out to be in a worse state than she was before. I felt like a complete failure, and that even at my best efforts, I still couldn't be a good father to her."  
  
"But you were able to straighten her up," Catherine said. "I could tell from the way she carried herself that she's no longer this troubled kid that you're talking about."  
  
"Oh, that wasn't my doing," Grissom shook his head. He looked at Catherine and smiled wistfully. "Wren came here to tell me she's getting married. She told me she met her husband-to-be two years ago, when she was vacationing at her grandparents' place in Vancouver. Her mother had sent her there when she had become too unruly for her to control, and since then, her maternal grandparents had kept her. Her grandfather was a piano tutor, and her fiancé Robbie was one of his students. He and her grandparents made her realize that she doesn't need to be angry at the world and at herself, and from then on, she had worked to get her life back on track."  
  
Catherine was moved by Gil's story, and she felt the hurt and the anger slowly leaving her. They sat in silence for a while, until finally, Catherine reached out and squeezed Grissom's hand. "When's her wedding?"  
  
"On Christmas day, in Vancouver," Grissom replied. "She came to personally tell me about it." Grissom enveloped Catherine's hands with his. "Catherine, I'm really sorry for not telling you sooner."  
  
"Apology accepted," Catherine smiled briefly, before turning serious again. "But please don't ever do this again. I don't want a relationship that has secrets."  
  
"Never again," Grissom promised. "And I have no more secrets from you. I promise."  
  
"Thanks, Gil," Catherine said.  
  
"And if you don't mind, I'd like you and Lindsey to come to Wren's wedding with me," Grissom said. "I know we planned to surprise her with a trip to Disneyworld -"  
  
"I don't know," Catherine shook her head. "Wouldn't it be better for you and Wren to spend time alone?"  
  
"She'll be staying here for a couple more days," Grissom said. "And she asked me to ask you. I told her about you, and she said she'd like to get to know you as well."  
  
"Well, okay then," Catherine nodded. She tugged Grissom's hand. "Come on, we'd better get to work."  
  
"Thanks, Catherine," Grissom smiled, still holding her hand. Together, they walked out of the locker room.  
  
"Well, it's about time," Nick greeted them when they stepped out of the hallway. Camped outside the doorway with Nick were Sara, Warrick and Greg.  
  
"Sara wouldn't let us go inside," Greg reported. "So it's her fault we're all late."  
  
"Hey, I did it so that you guys will have privacy," Sara defended herself. She smiled when she saw that Catherine was smiling.  
  
"How did you know we were there?" Grissom asked her.  
  
"Nick and I were on our way in when we heard your voices," Sara explained. "So, I dragged him out and kept these three out here."  
  
"Thanks, Sara," Grissom smiled. Turning to the rest of the team, "I'll meet you all at the break room in ten minutes."  
  
"Okay," Warrick spoke for them. As they filed into the locker room, he chuckled. "I knew those two couldn't stay mad at each other for long."  
  
"Hey, Nick, have you told Sara about Nicky Jr.?" Greg called from his locker.  
  
"Greg!" Nick called, as Sara turned to him in alarm. Warrick grinned.  
  
Greg shut his locker and faced them. "Just joking, man," he said with his hands raised in surrender upon seeing Nick's expression. "I was just joking, Sara," he also told Sara who looked like she was about hit Nick with her cane.  
  
"You'd better be," Sara replied. "Otherwise, there won't be any jolly old Nick this Christmas."  
  
"Come on, everyone, let's get to work," Nick said. "I don't know why everyone here thinks I've got a kid stashed somewhere," he grumbled as they headed back to the break room.  
  
Grissom and Catherine were waiting for them. "All right, everyone, let's get down to business," Grissom began as they took their places. "We have a long night ahead of us."  
  
Author's Post Script: What do you think of Grissom's explanation? Is it good enough? 


	6. Jessie

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.I don't make any profits from this.  
  
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas  
  
By Moose  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Before Grissom could say another word, his pager went off. Reading the message quickly, he sighed. "Brass found another dead body in the same area. I'm heading there."  
  
Warrick grimaced and prayed that Grissom won't ask him to accompany him to the crime scene. He knew that Grissom would be taking him or Catherine to the crime scene. Looking at Catherine, he could see that even if she and Grissom had made up, she also wasn't keen on going back.  
  
"What's missing this time?" Catherine asked.  
  
"Brass didn't say," Grissom said. He looked at Warrick, then at Catherine, then at Nick. "Nick, you're coming with me," he said, surprising everybody. "And you too, Cath."  
  
Warrick heaved a sigh of relief. Grissom turned to him and asked, "Did you find anything relevant in the victims' clothing?"  
  
Warrick shook his head. "A pack of cigarettes, a used table napkin from one of the hotels, and a pack of . " he suddenly stopped. "Wait. I found the napkin in victim number one's pocket, and the matches on victim number two. They're both from the same hotel."  
  
"Good," Grissom said. "You follow that up."  
  
As the team filed out of the break room, Sara sighed. It's back to the desk for her. She stood up and tried to walk without her cane, and was pleasantly surprised not to feel any pain shooting up her leg when she used her bad foot. Just a few more nights, she said to herself as she slowly walked out of the break room, carrying her cane. Just a few more nights of paperwork hell.  
  
  
  
"Room 805 please," Wren Grissom asked for her key at the hotel desk. The woman behind the counter obligingly handed it to her with a smile. Wren smiled back and thanked her.  
  
"Wren? Wren Grissom?"  
  
At the sound of her name, Wren turned around. "Jessie!" she cried recognizing the dark haired woman standing a couple of paces away.  
  
Jessie smiled at her. "Long time no see, Wren."  
  
"It's been too long," Wren agreed. Jessie and Wren had been neighbors for as long as Wren can remember. They have been the best of friends but somehow, their closeness slowly waned when Jessie left Paris for the United States for college.  
  
"Do you have time for a cup of coffee or something?" Jessie asked.  
  
Wren nodded. Soon both ladies were at the hotel coffee shop, with steaming cups of coffee in front of them. "So, what brings you to this side of the world?" Jessie asked.  
  
"My dad," Wren said. "He works here."  
  
"And what brings you to your dad?" Jessie inquired. She knew all about Wren's family situation, and in the past, Wren had made it clear that she thought both of her parents were failures.  
  
"Well, I just realized that he wasn't getting any younger, and that it's about time I forgive him and we try to have a real father-daughter relationship," Wren said, sipping her coffee. She intently waited for Jessie's reaction.  
  
"That's good, Wren," Jessie nodded. "But really, you're not fooling me with that crap. Why'd you come here?"  
  
Wren laughed. "You know me too well," she complained good-naturedly. "I invited Dad to my wedding."  
  
Jessie paused, her coffee cup half way up. She put it back down. "You're what?"  
  
Wren proudly presented her hand to her friend, a solitaire diamond ring on her ring finger. "I'm not kidding this time, Jessie."  
  
"Oh wow," Jessie whispered. Then her face broke into a smile. "I'm so happy for you!"  
  
"Thanks," Wren smiled back. "You're invited, too, you know."  
  
"No offense, Wren, but I've totally ditched this wedding thing," Jessie said seriously. "I've sort of made a promise that I won't attend any weddings, and won't have one of my own."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Oh, I belong to this group where women empowerment is a big issue," Jessie said. "It's actually a sisterhood, and one of our beliefs is that a woman should not be tied to any man to become a baby machine and a nanny."  
  
"Okay," Wren replied. Jessie had always been involved with these kinds of stuff, and it didn't surprise Wren at all. "Since when were you a part of this, uh, sisterhood?"  
  
"Almost five years now," Jessie said proudly. "In fact, we're here in Vegas for our annual convention." Her eyes then lit up. "Hey, I know, why don't you come to our convention? I promise we won't persuade you to call off your wedding, but I think it's good that you have to hear our stand."  
  
"I don't know, Jes," Wren said uncertainly. "Isn't that sort of thing exclusive for group members?"  
  
"Oh no," Jessie shook her head. "We try to reach out to as many women as we can. Come on, Wren. The meeting's tomorrow night."  
  
"I'll think about it," Wren replied. "But I can't promise you I'll come."  
  
"I understand," Jessie said. "But I'll include you in the guest list anyway, in case you do decide to come." She sipped her coffee. "So - tell me about this guy you're about to get hitched with."  
  
Wren smiled and began telling her friend about Robbie. Several more cups of coffee later, the friends finally decided to call it a night. As she prepared for bed, Wren realized how good it was to see and be with Jessie again. She knew she missed Jessie, but she had forgotten how great it was to spend time with her. Reaching out for her cell phone, she keyed in a text message to her friend:  
  
Jes, wil be at your mtg tom.  
  
Wren entered Jessie's number and settled back on her pillow. Message sent. 


	7. Scalped

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.I don't make any profits from this.  
  
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas  
  
By Moose  
  
Chapter 7  
  
"Jesus Christ, what sort of psycho would do this?" Nick swore as he, Grissom and Catherine looked at the body.  
  
"Frankenstein," Catherine replied cryptically, remembering her conversation with Warrick the night before.  
  
Nick looked at her quizzically, but Grissom nodded in understanding. "Right, somebody does appear to be making a monster out of other people's parts."  
  
"That's sick," Nick grunted, recalling the case details that Grissom had gave him on their way to the crime scene. He looked at the DB, who had been scalped. "Why can't this guy just go buy a wig?"  
  
Grissom just sighed and knelt down. He began examining the body. Just like the previous two victims, this one was a female of approximately the same age. He searched her pockets and was not surprised to find that nothing seemed to have been taken from her, save for her scalp and hair.  
  
As the body was taken away, Grissom looked at his other colleagues, who were both scouring the area for some clue. Removing his gloves, he got his phone and sent a message to Warrick, telling him to check the hotel guest list for someone named Mandy Roscoe, victim number three. He then called Sara and instructed her to search the database for killers with this type of MO. He was just finishing his conversation with her when Nick and Catherine approached him.  
  
"All done," Catherine reported.  
  
"Let's head back to the lab," Grissom said. "I need to see Robbins."  
  
"I'm sorry sir, but we do not show our guest list to non-hotel personnel," the woman behind the massive oak counter of the hotel informed Warrick.  
  
"I'm with the LVPD," Warrick declared, showing her his badge. "Is your manager around?"  
  
"Show him the guest list, Marie," a male voice from Warrick's right ordered. Warrick turned and saw a middle-aged man standing beside him. "I'm Charles Michelson, the manager."  
  
"Warrick Brown, LVPD forensics department," Warrick replied. "Thanks," he said as Marie handed him a print out of the guest list.  
  
"Is there any problem?" Michelson queried.  
  
Warrick's quick eyes scanned the list. He then nodded gravely. "I'm afraid so, Mr. Michelson," he said. "It appears that two of your guests have been murdered."  
  
Michelson seemed unperturbed. "Would you care to elaborate, Mr. Brown?"  
  
Just then, Warrick's pager beeped. It was Grissom, asking him to include Mandy Roscoe in his search. Warrick scanned the guest list once again and found the Mandy Roscoe was checked in the hotel. Glancing to Michelson, Warrick said, "Make that three guests, Mr. Michelson."  
  
"Are you sure?" Michelson asked. "This has never happened here before."  
  
"I'm quite sure," Warrick nodded. "Now, do you mind if I use your phone?"  
  
"No, not at all," the manager replied.  
  
"Thank you," Warrick said, dialing Grissom's number. He reported his findings to Grissom, who was on the way back to the lab with Nick and Catherine.  
  
"Have the manager secure the rooms," Grissom instructed. "I'll have Nick and Catherine help you there after they drop me at the lab."  
  
"Sure," Warrick replied, ending the call. Turning to Michelson, he said, "Please have these rooms secured until we have thoroughly searched them."  
  
"Very well," Michelson said. "Just make sure that this doesn't reach the media."  
  
Warrick just nodded, amazed at the callous way the manager was acting. He seemed more concerned with his hotel's publicity than with the welfare of his guests. Warrick sighed and waited for Nick and Catherine to arrive. 


	8. Rituals

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.I don't make any profits from this.  
  
Author's note: Happy New Year everyone!  
  
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas  
  
By Moose  
  
Chapter 8  
  
"Found anything?"  
  
Sara looked away from the monitor and saw Grissom standing at the doorway of the computer lab. She shook her head. "Sorry Griss."  
  
Grissom nodded. "Keep looking."  
  
"By the way, what was the third victim missing?"  
  
"She was scalped," Grissom replied. "And Warrick confirmed that all three are staying in the same hotel."  
  
"But they don't know each other?"  
  
"We don't know yet. Catherine, Nick and Warrick are searching their rooms now."  
  
Just then, something caught Sara's attention. She quickly stopped scanning and opened the case file. "Grissom, take a look at this," she said excitedly.  
  
Grissom walked over and looked at the monitor. "Rituals?"  
  
"Well, I was searching for crimes involving taking away of body parts," Sara explained. "Nothing under psychiatric problems came close to what we've been finding. So, I thought I'd give this a try."  
  
"Hmm," Grissom nodded, reading the case summary. "I think you're on the right track."  
  
Sara read a part of the summary aloud. "All victims were females, aged 16- 29."  
  
"Our DBs fall under that category," Grissom said, straightening up. "Print out several copies of that, Sara. I'll just see what Robbins has to say about victim number 3. Let's meet at the break room with the others."  
  
"Okay," Sara said happily. It was good to be functioning again.  
  
  
  
The shift was almost over by the time Nick, Catherine and Warrick got back from the hotel. The crime lab's cheerful Christmas decors once again failed to lift up the tired CSIs spirits as they headed to the break room. Grissom had paged them and told them to go straight to the break room when they got back to the crime lab.  
  
"Hey guys," Nick greeted Sara and Grissom upon entering the room. He wearily sat on his usual seat across Sara. Catherine took her place between Sara and Grissom. Warrick was on Grissom's other side.  
  
"Anything?" Grissom asked.  
  
"The three victims just had one thing in common," Warrick reported. "They were all in town for this annual women's lib meeting."  
  
Grissom and Sara exchanged knowing looks. That almost confirmed that their suspicions where correct. "Sara, the print outs?"  
  
Sara handed out the print outs to everyone. The table was silent while Catherine, Nick and Warrick read what Sara gave them.  
  
"Holy shit," Warrick finally spoke up. "These women were sacrifices?"  
  
Sara nodded. "Yup. It seemed that the members of the cult try to entice these ladies to join their 'annual meeting.' Truth is, the meeting is a big ritual wherein the members offer to their gods the various body parts."  
  
Warrick looked worriedly at Nick and Catherine.  
  
"What is it?" Grissom asked, not missing the silent communication between the three.  
  
"Gil, we have a list of the participants of the, um, meeting," Catherine began.  
  
"Good," Grissom said. "Do you know where and when this meeting will be?"  
  
"December 23rd," Warrick replied. "Hotel grand ballroom."  
  
"Hotel ballroom?" Sara repeated. "They couldn't do their rituals there."  
  
"They can't," Catherine agreed, "but they can transfer somewhere else later that night."  
  
"Tonight," Grissom corrected her. "Today's the 23rd."  
  
"Oh great," Nick muttered.  
  
Grissom looked at him curiously. "Okay, tell me what is really worrying you three."  
  
Nick glanced at Warrick and Catherine, who nodded. He took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Grissom. "Here's the list of the participants."  
  
"Thank you," Grissom said, not looking at the list. "What's going on with you, Warrick and Catherine?"  
  
"Check the list, Gil," Catherine said quietly.  
  
Grissom looked at her for a moment, then read the list. His heart almost stopped when he saw a familiar name close to the bottom.  
  
"What is it?" Sara asked, feeling left out. Before anybody could reply, Grissom stood up and bolted out of the room. Catherine sighed and followed him. Warrick sighed, said something about going to talk to Greg and headed out of the room.  
  
"Okay, Nick, can please tell me what's going on?" Sara asked her remaining colleague.  
  
Nick looked at her and told her what upset Grissom. "Wren's on the list." 


	9. Jumping to Conclusions

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.I don't make any profits from this.  
  
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas  
  
By Moose  
  
Chapter 9  
  
The ringing of the phone roused Wren from her sleep. With her sleep-laden eyes, she glanced at her bedside travel clock. 6 am. Who in the world would be calling at this hour?  
  
"Hello?" she groggily answered the phone.  
  
"Wren, you have to tell me the truth," Gil Grissom's stern voice greeted her.  
  
Wren was taken aback by her father's tone. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Why are you really here, Wren?"  
  
"I told you," Wren replied, fully awake now.  
  
"The truth, Wren," Grissom said darkly.  
  
"I came to invite you to my wedding," Wren replied, still not getting where Grissom was steering the conversation to. She could feel her temper beginning to flare up.  
  
"Don't you play games with me," Grissom said. "I know you're here not just because you wanted to invite me to your wedding. You're up to something again."  
  
"What?!" Wren exclaimed. "Honestly, Dad, I don't know what you're talking about!"  
  
"Okay, let me refresh your memory," Grissom remarked. "What are your plans for tonight?"  
  
"I'm meeting a friend," Wren answered. "Jessie."  
  
"And what will you be doing with this Jessie?"  
  
"None of your damn business!" Wren cried, really angry now. "I'm not a kid anymore, Dad. And besides, since when do you care?"  
  
"Fine Wren," Grissom replied just as angrily. "But don't you go running to me when the police arrest you."  
  
"Arrest me?" Wren laughed bitterly. "I may not have been the perfect daughter, Dad, but I'm not some criminal running away from the police. They wouldn't have a reason to arrest me."  
  
"They will, after I tell Brass about what your organization has been doing."  
  
"My organization? I don't belong to any organization!"  
  
"You don't?" Grissom said doubtfully. "Can you explain why your name's on this list for tonight's annual meeting for-"  
  
"Jessie invited me," Wren cut Grissom.  
  
"Oh God," Grissom whispered, wanting to slam his head into his office wall. "I'm sorry Wren."  
  
"Maybe you shouldn't be so quick to judge me," Wren curtly replied, not bothering to hide the hurt she felt.  
  
"I'm so sorry," Grissom repeated. "I didn't know that the list also contained non-members."  
  
Wren was still quite confused by what Grissom was talking about. Her anger, however, had simmered down to hurt. "I'm Jessie's guest."  
  
"Don't go, Wren," Grissom said. "This group, Jessie's group, are involved in pretty big trouble."  
  
"What kind of trouble?"  
  
"Murder."  
  
Wren was speechless. Jessie, involved in murder? That doesn't make sense. She had known Jessie forever, and thought Jessie may be reckless and weird sometimes, murder was something Wren knew Jessie wouldn't take a part of.  
  
"Wren? Are you still there, Wren?"  
  
"Jessie's not a murderer, Dad," Wren said quietly. Slowly, it dawned to her why Grissom had been so angry a while ago. The realization hurt her even more. "You actually thought I was involved in this too?"  
  
"Wren, I-" Grissom began. He took a deep breath and tried to organize his thoughts. "I was shocked to find your name on the list. I didn't know it included non-members."  
  
"So you assumed that I'm part of the group and that I played a part in the killings."  
  
"Yes," Grissom admitted, wanting to kick himself. "I'm so sorry. I should've given you a chance to explain first."  
  
"Yeah, you should have," Wren replied, not really wanting to continue the conversation. "You know what, Dad? Maybe you should forget about my wedding. You obviously still don't believe that your daughter has changed. And even if I hadn't changed, I would never have gotten involved with murder. I may have been wild, but murder is something I could never do. And since you obviously thought that I was capable of doing it, I think it's about time we part ways. I didn't think I sank that low in your eyes. And that I probably would never redeem myself."  
  
"Wren," Grissom pleaded. "I'm sorry. Look, we have to talk. But not like this."  
  
"Save it, Dad," Wren said coolly. "Your words and actions have told me how you really felt."  
  
"Wren," Grissom sighed. He knew he should give her some time to cool down. "Okay, if you don't want to talk now, I'll wait. But please promise me you won't go see Jessie tonight."  
  
"Why not?" Wren said. "Jessie's my friend, and I don't think she'd get involved in a group as bad as that group you were talking about."  
  
"Wren, they're not what you think," Grissom said. "They do things that -"  
  
"Bye Dad," Wren said, putting down the phone. She laid back on her bed and thought about what had just happened. He couldn't be right about Jessie, could he? I guess I'd have to find out tonight, she thought. 


	10. Grissom's Plan of Action

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.I don't make any profits from this.  
  
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas  
  
By Moose  
  
Chapter 10  
  
Catherine sighed and rapped lightly on Grissom's open doorway. She had heard the last part of Grissom's conversation with Wren, and from the look on Grissom's face, she knew he was aware of how badly he had handled the situation.  
  
Grissom looked to her direction and sighed. "I blew it."  
  
Catherine gave him a small smile. "I don't think so. I'm sure Wren's old enough to understand."  
  
"She is, but we don't have the best father-daughter relationship," Grissom said, his right hand reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose. "This relationship has its foundation in the sand."  
  
When Catherine did not say anything, Grissom continued, "We hardly spent anytime together, and this is probably the first meeting we've had that didn't involve heated arguments on the first day. Now, I just had to ruin- "  
  
"Gil, it's not too late," Catherine interrupted. "Go to Wren. Talk to her, apologize to her. But not right now. Give yourselves some time to cool down."  
  
Grissom just sat there, his eyes closed. Finally, he opened them and gave Catherine a small smile. "I hope you're right."  
  
Catherine smiled back. "I am," she said confidently. "Now, we have work to do."  
  
"Right," Grissom nodded, trying to ignore the beginnings of a migraine. "If we're going to send the police to the meeting tonight, we'd better have enough evidence."  
  
"Let's go get those evidences," Catherine replied. "I don't want another life to be wasted on for this cause."  
  
  
  
The whole team had agreed to work overtime, Sara included. Catherine and Warrick were assigned to check out the third victim's clothes and things, while Nick tried to get more information from the hotel. Sara went back to the computer room and try to dig up more information about Jessie's nameless cult. Grissom took off to find Brass and inform him of the case developments, and of the potential raid they might do that night.  
  
By noon, Grissom decided to call his team for a meeting in his office. The break room was already taken over by the day shift.  
  
"So, what have you guys have to report?" Grissom began after the whole team, including Greg, had assembled in his office.  
  
"We still don't have a name," Sara quipped.  
  
"But I found out that aside from Jessie, twelve other girls on the list come here every year and check into the hotel," Nick said. "Seems that they've been meeting annually for five years already." He handed Grissom a piece of paper with the girls' names.  
  
"Okay," Grissom nodded, taking the paper. He looked at it and was relieved not to find his daughter's name on the list. "What about the victim's things and clothes?"  
  
Warrick shook his head regrettably. "Sorry, Griss. Nothing to link them to their killers."  
  
Greg also turned in his results. "Nothing here either, Griss."  
  
"We don't have any evidence at all," Grissom said. He knew this was a possibility, and he had a plan. "What do you guys think about a stakeout?"  
  
"Cool!" Greg grinned.  
  
"I don't know Gil," Catherine said. "What if something happens? The six of us can't handle all those people."  
  
"I'm not suggesting we do this on our own," Grissom replied. "I've talked to Brass about this. He said he could spare several of his men, including himself, for this kind of thing tonight. But we have to make sure that these women are really the killers."  
  
"How are we going to do that?" Nick asked.  
  
"Right now, there's nothing more we can do," Grissom said. "But if we catch them in the act-"  
  
"You mean, we have to wait until they begin killing someone?" Sara asked.  
  
"No, we just have to wait until they state what they are going to do," Grissom replied. "And Sara, you're staying here."  
  
"Grissom, you're not leaving me here," Sara protested. "I may not be able to move fast on my feet, but I also have eyes and ears, you know."  
  
"What if they don't state specifically what they are going to do?" Warrick asked.  
  
"Then we'll have to wait until right before they strike their victim," Grissom said. "Sara, you're staying."  
  
"Oh, come on, Grissom," Sara protested. "I'll stay in the car, or in the hotel lobby. I just can't stay here!"  
  
Grissom looked at her doubtfully for a while. Finally, he said, "I guess another set of eyes and ears will be of use. You'll be in the hotel security room. There will be cameras set up in that room to record the meeting. You'll be the one to tell us when to move in."  
  
Sara nodded happily. "Where will you guys be?"  
  
"Nick will be in the lobby, he'll guard the front exit. Warrick will be at the back exit, he'll wait in the car. Just in case they decide to change venue, which I think is highly probable. Brass will be in an unmarked car up front. Catherine and I will be just outside the ballroom."  
  
"What about me?" Greg asked.  
  
"You'll guard the back exit from the inside," Grissom said. "You alert Warrick if there are participants attempting to leave from the back." He looked at the rest of his team. "Let's meet here a little earlier than usual tonight, okay?"  
  
He received five nods. "Very well, all of you go home and rest now," Grissom said. "I'll see you guys tonight." 


	11. The Stakeout

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.I don't make any profits from this.  
  
Author's note: This is the final chapter. I think I hastily wrapped up the case and the story, but I just ran out of time to develop it. Vacation's over for me, but I'll try to edit this when I get some free time. Or perhaps I'll just start a new story.  
  
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas  
  
By Moose  
  
Chapter 11  
  
Sara had been watching the security cameras' feedback for over three hours, and so far, the ladies in the ballroom do not appear to have any other agenda besides talking about women's rights and singing pro-women songs. She sighed and leaned back on her chair. This was really starting to test her patience.  
  
Just then, she something caught her attention. In one of the screens, Sara saw what appeared to be a heated argument between Wren and a dark-haired woman. Sara watched intently as the dark-haired woman gesticulated angrily at Wren, who had her hands crossed in front of her. Before long, the other woman left Wren in a huff, and Wren's shoulders visibly sagged.  
  
"Okay, what happened, Wren?" Sara whispered, her eyes still trained on Grissom's daughter.  
  
Wren then looked around her and approached another participant tentatively. Sara could see that this other woman had a baby, and was feeding it. After a lengthy conversation with Wren, the woman put away the feeding bottle and followed Wren, who appeared to be headed for one of the doors.  
  
"Grissom?" Sara called, using the handset that Brass had given her. Brass had told her that anything she says using the handset would be heard by the rest of Grissom's and Brass's team.  
  
"Yes Sara?"  
  
"Wren's going out," Sara reported, watching Wren try to open the door in vain. "But the south door appears to be locked. She's now heading for the west door. A woman with a baby is with Wren."  
  
"Okay, I'm right outside the west door. Catherine's guarding the main doors."  
  
Sara watched as Wren failed to open the door again. "West door's also locked."  
  
Wren and the woman then headed for a small door at the back of the room. "They're going to the fire exit."  
  
"Greg, are you in position?" Grissom asked.  
  
"Yup, but I can't see them yet."  
  
"Jessie and three others saw them," Sara reported, as Jessie and her companions moved across the room towards the door that Wren used. "They're after her."  
  
"Greg, follow Wren and her friend," Grissom ordered.  
  
"I can't see them yet, Griss," came Greg's reply.  
  
"Jessie and company now out of the ballroom," Sara quipped.  
  
"I'm off, Griss!" Greg announced.  
  
"Warrick, you follow Jessie and the others," Grissom said. "Brass, are any of your people close to where Warrick is?"  
  
"I have just sent two officers to that direction," Brass replied. "Jenkins, Henderson, you two go with Brown."  
  
"What are we going to do now, Griss?" Sara asked.  
  
"Nick, go to the manager and inform him that we're not letting anyone from that ballroom leave," Grissom replied. "Then go secure the ballroom's fire exit."  
  
"Okay," Nick said.  
  
"You okay, boss?" Nick asked when he arrived. "Fire exit's closed from the outside."  
  
Grissom smiled at him weakly. "I'll be when Wren gets back."  
  
"Wren, stop!" Jessie's voice rang clear in night.  
  
Wren stopped and faced her friend. She did not see Greg, who had stepped back into the shadows. "Jessie, I can't let you do this!"  
  
"Wren, don't be silly!" Jessie cried angrily, approaching Wren and her companion.  
  
"Why won't you tell me what you are going to do with Mickey?"  
  
"Yeah, go on, tell her," Warrick whispered from where he was. He was crouched beside his vehicle. The two officers were also hiding nearby.  
  
"Fine, I'll give you a demonstration," Jessie replied. She took out a knife. Warrick took out his gun and aimed at her.  
  
"Jessie, I can't let you hurt him!" Wren exclaimed, standing in front of the mother and Mickey.  
  
"Oh, he won't feel the pain, Wren," one of Jessie's companions said. "Hurry up! It's almost time!"  
  
"Jessie, no," Wren said firmly.  
  
"Wren, get out of the way!" Jessie spat out angrily. "If we don't do this, all those women will have given their lives up for nothing! It's not going to hurt, the Power will make sure it doesn't."  
  
"How do you know for sure?" Mickey's mother asked tearfully.  
  
"Because Jessica Morrison never complained or shed a tear when we handled her," Jessie's other companion replied.  
  
"How could she, you took away her tongue and eyes," Warrick asked loudly, stepping out of the shadows and pointing the gun at Jessie. "Drop the knife."  
  
Jessie and her companions whirled around in surprise, and Greg used this opportunity to grab Wren and pull her away. Wren struggled briefly, but upon recognizing Greg, she calmed down.  
  
"Who are you?" Jessie asked, still holding the knife.  
  
"Warrick Brown, LVPD," Warrick replied. Before he could say more, three squad cars screeched to a stop with their lights on the women. "Give it up. Gig's over, ladies."  
  
  
  
Before they could get back to interviewing the women, Brass walked up to Grissom and said, "They're back."  
  
Grissom immediately shot out of the room, and ran outside. His eyes scanned the area for Wren, and when he found her, he rushed to her.  
  
"Wren?"  
  
Wren turned around and saw a very worried and breathless Grissom before her. Without saying a word, she broke down and allowed her father to hold her tight. Grissom himself had tears in his eyes.  
  
"You were right," Wren said softly.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Wren, I'm so sorry," Grissom whispered. He pulled back a little and looked into her eyes.  
  
"I was just angry this morning," Wren replied. "And hurt. But I don't want us to not to see each other again. And I want you to go to my wedding."  
  
"I'll be there," Grissom assured her. "Did they hurt you?"  
  
"No, but I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't sent the police after them," Wren weakly answered. She looked at him with haunted eyes. "They were going to kill the baby, Dad," Wren whispered. "That's why I tried to get him to safety. They were also planning to kill their 'guests' and try to pass it off as a mass suicide."  
  
"Wren," Grissom couldn't hold back his tears. He had been so close to losing her. Wren hugged him back.  
  
"Dad, I didn't mean those things I said this morning, okay?" Wren said. "I want you in my life."  
  
"Thanks, Wren," Grissom smiled through the tears. "I want to be in your life. And you in mine."  
  
Wren smiled back. "Good. I'm starting to look forward to Christmas again."  
  
"Your big day," Grissom said.  
  
"I know," Wren nodded. "Merry Christmas, Dad."  
  
"Merry Christmas, Wren," Grissom returned. He smiled. It really is beginning to look a lot like Christmas. 


End file.
